All That You Take
by ApathyandEmpathy
Summary: She never expected it to happen but still, she wonders how feeling this good can ever feel so bad.Three-shot Pezberry.
1. Chapter 1

It's been two months. Two months to the day since Brittany broke up with her, she'd say since Brittany broke her heart, but she knows she's just as much to blame. If not more so. To commiserate the day, Santana does the same thing she's been doing every day for the past two months; she digs out one of her shortest, most inappropriate dresses, straightens her hair and does her make-up, all while knocking back as much vodka as she can consume before her cab arrives. She's almost on a first name basis with the cab drivers now, and tonight she gets lucky. It's Jack. Jack's an easy going guy, he doesn't leer at her when she clambers in, and he doesn't give her a sympathetic eye via the rear view mirror when he ends up picking her up in the early hours of the morning. He doesn't even say anything about the revolving door of women that she finds herself going home with, or taking home to the apartment she shares with Rachel.

Rachel of course, doesn't feel the same way. In the beginning her roommate was almost always waiting for her, whether she dragged herself through the door at 1am or 9am Rachel always seemed to be there with the same unimpressed face, the same look of pity and disappointment. At first she thinks that it because Rachel cares, and she does, it just takes Santana a while to realise that Rachel worries more about having random strangers in her house and being woken up in the middle of the night. Sometimes, when she's had particularly heavy night, when alcohol isn't the only substance flowing through her vein, she lets herself believe that Rachel is there waiting for her to make sure she's safe. Eventually though, Rachel stops waiting and Santana stops pretending.

That's why it's such a surprise when, arriving home by herself for once, Santana finds Rachel in their kitchen. The apartment isn't that big, after all apartments in New York don't come cheap, so Santana only has to stumble in through the door to see Rachel; the tiny brunette humming to herself as she sets a bottle down on the counter.

"Are you drunk?" Santana stumbles forward, giggling at the slurred question, and plants herself against the kitchen counter, her eyes focusing on the bottle in Rachel's hand. "Is that vodka?"

Rachel doesn't seem surprised to see Santana, and if she is she hides it well. Shaking the glass container upside down she ends up tossing it in the bin. "Empty."

"Go figure," Santana sighs as she remembers she meant to pick a new bottle up. The last girl she brought back, Anna or Ani, had managed to down the last of it without Santana's permission before passing out on the couch. "There's beer." Pushing away from the counter she makes it to the fridge and pulls out two bottles, snapping the lid off she passes one to Rachel and raises the other to her lips.

It's probably the alcohol in her system, but it takes Santana a minute to realise how close to Rachel she is standing. She's practically invading the other girl's personal space. Still, she lingers, enjoying the warmth radiating from the smaller frame as her eyes roam.

"You're staring," Rachel whispers as she tilts her head to look at Santana.

Santana gulps down first sip of her beer, setting the bottle on the side next to Rachel's she shrugs. "So what if I am?" She curses internally, her alcohol induced courage overriding her normal denial. For a second she's reminded of Brittany's words, the blondes heartbroken sobs still clear in her mind, _You stare at her all the time, and you can't even admit it._ She remembers not having a comeback for that. She's broken from the painful memories when Rachel steps closer, her lithe frame pressed impossibly close and arched against her. She has dreamt about it for longer than she dare to admit; the fantasy's, the daydreams, the hours spent envisioning how it would feel to have Rachel's body pressed up against her own. It's better than she ever dared imagine. Her breath catches in her chest as she looks down at Rachel and sees the lust hidden behind uncertainty.

"Santana…" Rachel exhales heavily, her chests heaving as her arms come up to wrap around the other girl's waist.

Santana's not used to feel so unsure of herself, in this situation she'd normally waste no time in making her move, she's done so countless times before. But this is Rachel. Rachel, who's in her arms with lips so close she can feel the smaller girl's breath against her own. Her arms feel weak as she places a shaking hand on Rachel's hip, the feeling of skin, warm to the touch, making her heart pound.

When their lips meet for the first time, Santana thinks her legs are going to give way. It's only for the fact Rachel has her pressed against the wall that she stays upright, her arms holding on tightly to the smaller girl as she grinds against her. She feels herself moan as Rachel's hand drifts from her waist and slips under her hem of her dress, fingers dancing across the smooth skin of her thigh. It's not the easiest, or more graceful, of moves that gets them from the kitchen wall to Santana's bedroom but considering how much she can feel herself trembling she's glad to make it there at all.

"Take off your dress," Rachel moans as she pulls away from Santana, her own hands already making short work of the dress confining her own body.

Santana doesn't need to be asked twice, she swiftly unzips and lets the fabric fall from her body, leaving her clad only in her underwear. She kicks off her shoes and looks up, catching Rachel as she mirrors her actions. Santana gasps, her eyes drifting over the other girl, the way her muscles flex and roll, and she takes a step towards her. She feels some of her confidence return as she draws Rachel to her, one hand wrapping around her tiny waist as the other runs through her hair, pulling Rachel as close to her as she can, the feel of skin against skin leaving her breathless.

Spurred on by the sound of Rachel moaning Santana lets her hand drift from Rachel's hair, across her shoulder blade, tracing gently over her breast, and down to her stomach. Lips peppering kisses across the smaller girl's jaw she meets Rachel's ear, sucking delicate flesh between her teeth and relishing the way Rachel arches into her. She wants, needs, more of Rachel and can't bare the clothes separating them anymore. She reaches around and releases the catch on Rachel's bra, smiling as Rachel slips it off and it drops to the floor, revealing perfectly hardened nipples. Dipping her head down she captures one in her mouth, tongue tracing across the tip as Rachel brings her hands up to hold her in place, head thrown back in pleasure. It's too much and not enough all at once, her body melding to Rachel's as she reaches down to slide Rachel's panties down smooth legs. Lifting her mouth from Rachel's breast she lets the other girl draw her back into a kiss, tongues dwelling as the smaller girl manoeuvres her backwards towards the bed. She gasps at the feeling of Rachel's hands ghosting across her skins as she rids her of her underwear, the gentle trace of fingertips as the last of her clothing hits the floor.

When they tumble back on to the bed together, limbs intertwined and bodies' glowing with a thin layer of sweat, Santana finds herself breathless, the image of Rachel hovering above her, more beautiful than she had even imagined, and she has imagined it often. She can barely keep up with everything, her mind racing and body burning with the need to keep Rachel's skin pressed against her own.

She can't stop the other girl's name tumbling from her lips as Rachel's hand traces down her stomach, dipping between her thighs to where Santana needs her most. Her breathing is erratic, and locking eyes with Rachel she arches her back as she feels Rachel's fingers slowly slip into the waiting wetness. Lifting her hand she cups Rachel's cheek and pulls the other girl down on top of her, lips crashing together as she pants, feeling the other girls fingers at her entrance. "Please."

She feels Rachel pause, pulling back to lock her eyes one more, balanced on one arm and bodies pressed tightly together she smiles. Santana doesn't hold back the loud moan that escapes as Rachel slowly pushes inside, her gaze never leaving Santana. On reflex her left arms reaches out, above her head, grasping at the headboard as she rocks her hips against Rachel's thrusts and her other hand holds on to the other girls hips.

"I-I…" Rachel groans, lips raking across Santana's neck.

Even though Rachel can't get the words out, it doesn't matter, Santana knows what she needs. Slipping her hand between their bodies, she closes her eyes as her fingers slip between Rachel's folds. She takes delight in the way Rachel bucks against her hand as she uses her finger to tease the other girl's clit, before letting her fingers drop to lower. She can hear Rachel grunting and groaning against her ear, fingers still moving deftly within Santana as she pleads for the other girl to touch her.

They both gasp as Santana gently pushes her fingers into Rachel, and Santana doesn't ever want to forget this feeling. She wraps her legs around Rachel, squeezing their bodies so close together she's not sure where Rachel ends and she begins, fingers moving deeply inside of each other, curling and thrusting as they work in unison. Santana wants it to last forever; the feel of Rachel's walls clenching around her fingers, the weight of the other girl pinning her down, and the way she moves inside of her.

Rachel comes undone first, her body quivering and shaking as she hovers over Santana, her mouth dropping open in screams of ecstasy as Santana does all she can to prolong the waves of pleasure. The arm supporting her weight unable to hold her up any longer she tumbles on top of Santana even as her other hand continues thrusting, working the other girl to her peak. The feeling of Rachel cumming is enough to push Santana over the edge, back arching and hips pushing against Rachel's hand, she screams Rachel's name. In the perfect moment of content that follows Santana closes her eyes, a smile plastered to her face even as they detangle themselves.

"Holy fuck," Rachel groans as she rolls off of Santana. Santana frowns and snaps her eyes open, head tilted to the side the watches as the other girl stretches out across her bed. Rachel never swears, and it's not exactly what she'd imagine to hear after being intimate with Rachel. She doesn't say anything though, happy to watch as Rachel slides under her sheets and buries her head against the pillow.

The next morning when Santana wakes up to cold sheets next to her, she knows the nausea that sends her speeding from her room and to the bathroom, stomach churning and clenching as she throws up, has nothing to do with the alcohol consumed the night before. When she pulls herself up from the floor, naked and exposed, she knows there isn't going to be note from Rachel by her bed. There isn't going to be a cup of coffee waiting for her in the kitchen and the smell of pancakes isn't about to start wafting through the apartment. She won't get to sink back into a warm bed and wrap her arms around the girl she's loves, the girl she gave up a chance of happiness with Brittany for.

Leaning against the sink she can't bear to meet her own eyes in the mirror, she can't stand to look at herself for fear of seeing what everyone else seems to see in her. What Brittany saw, Anna or Ani, and the countless and often nameless girl's from the past two months saw.

What Rachel sees.

The thought is enough to send her running back to the toilet, dry heaving and shaking as tears flood down her cheeks. She wishes someone would tell her what's so bad about her, what she's doing so wrong that sends people running from her.


	2. Chapter 2

She wants to avoid Rachel after that night, but just because she wants to, doesn't mean she can, because as it turns out, she's kind of a glutton for punishment. She does okay during the daytime; picking up extra hours at work, spending a little longer at the local coffee shop on her way home, and discovering that the library is an excellent place to linger. It's the evenings that are the main problem, particularly the ones where alcohol is involved.

If she drank heavily before everything happened with Rachel, well, now she's in a different league. At first she was just trying to block out the memory of waking up in an empty bed instead of curled up next to Rachel but now, well now that one night isn't a stand-alone any more. She doesn't mean to end up in bed with Rachel again, she knows it's only going to end in more tears but at the same time, it's Rachel. Rachel. The girl she's been in love with for as long as she can remember and even though she tells herself it's wrong, to move on and accept that Rachel doesn't love her back, she can't. It's not that easy, especially when alcohol is involved. So she lets herself fall into a vicious cycle, drinking to forget Rachel only to end up in bed with her.

Sometimes she lets herself believe, she closes her eyes and imagines that Rachel loves her the way she loves Rachel. She imagines that the kisses nipped at her neck aren't out of lust and the search for release, but from passion and love. She lets her hands trace the curve of Rachel's back, she memorises the way the other girl's skin feels beneath her touch, and tricks her brain into thinking that she is anything more than a cheap fuck. She fights back the tears as Rachel brings her to her peak. She wonders how feeling this good can ever feel so bad.

It's early Friday evening when Santana stumbles home to find the group in the kitchen of her shared apartment. It takes her a while to process everything and she knows that there's at least a second too long with her standing, mouth open, frown in place, as she takes in Kurt, Blaine and Quinn milling around what was supposed to be her empty apartment. She doesn't remember Rachel mentioning anyone coming to visit but then again, she doesn't exactly talk to Rachel much at all anymore.

"Santana!" Blaine says, his surprised expression making Santana wonder if he had forgotten she lived there too.

She grunts a vague hello, but they've all but turned back to their conversation before the word even rolls from her tongue. She doesn't wait around to listen to them; it's not hard to work out what they're talking about, names of restaurants and bars floating around. Santana sighs as she shucks her jacket off and throws it over the back of the couch. She's not exactly expecting an invite; she's given up on that. Still, the thought of staying in and knowing that all her former friends are out partying makes her stomach twist uncomfortably. She tries not to think about the expensive ticket Quinn brought for Rachel so they could stay in touch.

By the time Santana has finished doing her hair and make-up, and slipped into her favourite dress, the group have disappeared from the apartment, she pretends that she probably didn't hear them say goodbye over the power-shower.

Her night is a blur, and not the good kind. Beer makes her feel queasy and she can't bring herself to touch anything stronger. The music is too loud and the people too obnoxious. She forces herself to stay out though, she remembers the time she stayed home while everyone else went out, and had to listen to them laughing and shouting when they fell in the door at gone 3am. If she had anywhere else to go tonight, she would. But she refuses to spend money renting a hotel room or hiding in a club all night and since that night with Rachel, she can't bring herself to look at any other girls. When the clock finally strikes 2am, she can't take any more, so chugging back the last of her beer she cringes and hopes she can keep it down for the cab ride back. She doesn't recognise the driver tonight, which is probably good; she's not really in the mood to talk.

It's just her luck of course, that stumbling in through the front door she is again met with the sight of everyone gathered in her kitchen, music blasting from the stereo as they apparently continue their drinking. She can't help but bitterly note how happy they look, they don't even glance her way when she slams the door shut and tosses her jacket and bag on the floor. Her mind is so focused on getting to her room, that she almost misses it. A long, lingering look combined with that mischievous smirk. It feels like her heart stops in her chest, her hands curling into fists as she wills her eyes not to water. Rachel isn't supposed to look at Quinn like that.

Her feet feel like lead and at this point she's grateful, because it seems like the only thing stopping her from running to her room. It's a miracle she manages to drag herself to her sanctuary, away from the group's laughter that only seems loud and mocking. Leaning her back against her door she stares blankly at the bedroom as the sounds float through the apartment. Then it's as though everything explodes, the rage and misery she has been letting build up comes flooding through her, pulsing and aching, as she loses all control. The wooden desk chair she brought on her first day in New York is flying through the air before she can process it, the cheap material splintering and shattering as it collides with the wall. The desk doesn't fare much better as she flips it sideways. Stepping over the papers and books spreading across the floor Santana grabs the pillows from her unmade bed and hurls them across the room, knocking two photo-frames over and smashing an ornament.

Her anger fades as quickly as it came, and sinking down to sit on the edge of her bed Santana leans her elbows against her knees, forehead pressed to her clenched fists she pushes her knuckles against her closed eyes and refuses to cry. Or tries to. But there's a voice in her head, that same voice that seems insistent on reminded her that Rachel is using her, and she's letting her.

"Santana?" She doesn't expect the small voice that floats through her bedroom door, a tentative knock following shortly after. "Are you okay?"

There isn't time to answer, the handle turning and door opening to reveal Kurt, of all people. "Go away," Santana tries, her voice notably strained as she refuses to meet Kurt's eyes.

"Santana, I-"He stops short, eyes roaming the scene in front of him. "What happened?"

"What do you care?" She tries to sound nonchalant, even manages to pull herself up from the bed to stand glaring in Kurt's direction, hands glued to her hips. Neither of them buys her apparent anger and it's not long before she deflates under the boy's concerned stare, body sinking back down onto the bed that holds so many painful memories.

Kurt edges closer, awkwardly sitting next to Santana he seems to debate something before he says, "Is this about you and Rachel?"

"What did she tell you?" Santana says, fear clouding her features as she finally looks at Kurt. Her mind racing with all the horrible things he might be thinking about her. Did he know they were sleeping together? Would he think she had been the one to initiate it? That she had pressured Rachel? That she was taking advantage of Rachel?

Kurt shrugs, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "I see the way you look at her."

"Oh." She exhales loudly, her eyes falling to where her hands are twisting together in her lap. She hates herself for being so obvious, she's barely spent any time around Kurt and even he can read her like an open book. She wonders if Rachel ever talks about her with him. "Well…I see the way _she_ looks at _me_, so…"

"And how's that?" he ask carefully, arms folded across his chest as he tries not to look so desperately out of his element.

Santana sighs, a sad smile twisting her features as she lets the words fall from her lips. "Like I'm just another person. Rachel doesn't care about me. She doesn't want me, not like I want her. She doesn't even like me, I'm just… I don't know, a convenient fuck." She wonders for a moment if she should have told Kurt that much but she can't bring herself to care. What does it matter if Kurt thinks badly of her? He probably already does. Twisting away from Kurt she lowers her head. "You should go. I'm sure your _friends_ are wondering where you are."

"Santana, I…"

Santana frowns as Kurt trails off. He sounds like, like there's something he knows. That he wants to say, but can't. Slowly turning back to Kurt she hopes for him to continue. Has Rachel told him something? Maybe he wants to tell her that he was the one that insisted on not inviting her places with the group, not Rachel. He stays silent though and in the end she decides it's probably some half-assed apology that he knows she won't buy. "Goodnight, Kurt." She mutters eventually, the lingering silence rattling her just as much as the look of pity on the boy's face.

She watches as Kurt stands and makes for the door, he pauses in the doorway and for a second Santana thinks he's going to speak. But he doesn't, he simply turns and closes the door behind him, letting it click shut and leaving Santana alone again.

She barely sleeps that night. She tosses and turns, at 5am she's up and tiding her earlier destruction, before falling back into bed and finally suffering a restless few hours of sleep. When she drags herself out of bed the next morning she can already hear the others, and if it wasn't for the ever-growing headache and unbearable dryness of her mouth, she'd stay hidden under her duvet for the rest of the day.

Instead she finds herself padding out of her room and to the kitchen. She spots Rachel first, of course, perched on one of the stools lining the breakfast bar. Blaine is sat next to her, obviously enthralled by his own conversation and Kurt is leant against the edge of the counter affectionately watching his boyfriend and best friend. Santana almost hates to interrupt the moment.

"Morning, Santana."

Kurt's hesitant greeting does nothing to make her feel any better, but she gives him a polite smile as she shuffles past and over to the sink. "Hey."

"You just missed Quinn," He explains. Santana can feel his eyes glued to her back as she grabs a glass from a nearby cupboard and fills it from the tap. "She went on a coffee run. She's only just left, I could call her, get her to pick something up for you?"

Turning to face Kurt she forces a smile on her face as she leans back against the counter. "I'm fine, really."

"Actually…" Blaine interrupts, his lips curling into an excited grin. "With Quinn gone, now seems like an excellent chance to grill one Miss Rachel Berry on certain… antics… last night."

Santana tries not to stare at Rachel as she waits for Blaine to continue. She's more than aware that Kurt is watching her, so she forces herself to remain emotionless. She debates making a swift exit, but knows that would only provoke suspicion, so gripping her glass she waits.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Rachel says. Santana can see the blush creeping across the girl's cheeks as she playfully shoves Blaine. "You're such a gossip."

Blaine holds up his hands in self-defence, and Santana really wishes she could knock that stupid smile from his face. "I am not a gossip. I'm just saying… You and Quinn looked pretty close…"

"Blaine." Kurt shifts uncomfortably as his eyes dart between his boyfriend and everywhere except Santana. She's actually thankful his trying to stop the other boy but she knows he won't be successful.

"What?" Blaine asks innocently, "I can't be interested in my friend's lives?" Choosing to ignore the warning look from Kurt, he turns back to Rachel, "So, does she like you? Do you like her? Oh… does this mean we can double-date now?"

Santana feels like her heart has stopped, every muscle in her body frozen in place as she tries to conceal how important Rachel's answer is. She doesn't want to hear it though, she doesn't, and if she could she'd run so fast she would never have to confront the horrible images of Rachel with _Quinn_, and not with her.

"I…" Rachel hesitates, but the momentary hope Santana feels as she meets Rachel's unreadable expression is extinguishes in the next second. "I think that, yes…Quinn has feelings for me."

Blaine squeals, literally squeals in excitement, and Santana finds she has never wanted to slap him more. She knows he's simply caught up in the drama of it all, she can only assume he doesn't know anything about her and Rachel, so she supposes she can't blame him.

Santana surprises herself as, lifting her eyes from the floor she meets Rachel's gaze. "Do you have feelings for her?" Impressed at her neutral tone she almost misses the confusion that spreads across Rachel's face. She swears she sees a hint of pain as Rachel's eyebrows knit together but that doesn't make any sense.

"I…I don't know," Rachel says as she squares her shoulders and sits up straighter. "Maybe."

Santana isn't sure, but she can't shake the feeling that response felt more like a challenge than anything else.

"I mean… Quinn is…."

Blaine interrupts now, practically bouncing on his seat, oblivious to the looks Kurt is shooting him. If anything he looks to his boyfriend, willing him to support Rachel. "Beautiful, intelligent, caring…"

Santana flinches as the list goes on, she tries to block it out and ignore the ever growing compliments and adoration. The list of things she'll never be. The list of things Rachel will never associate with her. "She's perfect," Santana says, effectively cutting Blaine off. "She's perfect."

It makes sense really, when she thinks about it. Quinn has always been better than her, she's always be the one that everyone wanted. That everyone loved. Santana sighs, she's spent so much of her life watching people pick Quinn over her, it makes sense that Rachel would fall for the blonde. She's everything Blaine listed, perfect and pure, while Santana knows she's a mess. She's so caught up in her thoughts that she nearly misses Rachel's next words.

"I never expected for it to happen," Rachel says as she squirms in her seat under the attention of the other three. Her eyes stay glued to Santana though.

"You can't help who you fall in love with," Santana replies with a sad smile. She desperate wants Rachel to understand she's talking about her. She knows the other girl will more than likely assume she means Brittany. But damn it, she needs Rachel to look at her and actually fucking _see_ her for once. She never intended to fall in love with Rachel; she never wanted any of this. "Believe me. I've tried." The words hang heavily in the air between them, out of the corner of her eye she sees Kurt look down, no doubt trying to hide his pity, but she doesn't care.

She jumps at the sound of Kurt's voice, the forced nonchalance behind his words obvious to everyone in the room. "Blaine, sweetie. I forgot, I told my Dad I'd call him this morning. Can I borrow your phone?"

Blaine quickly agrees, suddenly anxious to get out of the room for reasons he's not even sure of. "It's in our bag in Rachel's room. I'll show you."

The two boys are gone in an instant and Santana can't blame them, the atmosphere between her and Rachel is crushing. She sees Rachel open her mouth to speak, only to snap it shut again and she wonders what exactly the other girl is thinking. Rachel has also been impossible to read.

"I hope you're happy," Santana says. The words could have sounded hostile but if anything there's a quiet resignation to them that even Santana herself hadn't expected. "I mean… I think, I think being with Quinn…I hope you're happy, with… her." It physically hurts to force the words from her mouth, because she does want Rachel to be happy. But she wants her to be happy with her.

"Santana, I…" For a second Santana thinks Rachel is going to prove her wrong. That this is her moment, that there's hope after all. But whatever Rachel was going to say seems to die on her lips, instead her shoulders sag as she averts her gaze from Santana. "I don't want Quinn to know about… about us. I don't want her to think I'm that kind of girl…"

"What kind of girl?" Santana cries, her confused frown suddenly turning to one of realisation. A heavy weight settling in her stomach she steps back. "Oh." She looks at the floor, her eyes tracing the patterns of the floorboards as she distances herself from Rachel. "You mean, the kind of girl that would fuck someone like me."

"No! No, Santana that is not what I meant-" Panic clouding her face Rachel stands quickly, dodging around the counter, trying to approach Santana. "I didn't-"

With her back pressed up against the worktop Santana doesn't have anywhere to go as Rachel approaches her. She feels trapped. "I know exactly what you meant," Santana spits as she folds her arms across her chest in an attempt to form some kind of barrier between them. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

Rachel shakes her head, eyes wide and pleading she slowly reaches out her hand to clasp at Santana's folded arms. As her fingertips meet warm skin she feels tears prick her eyes. "Santana, you don't understand I-"

The sound of a key in the lock draws Santana's attention and she stumbles back from Rachel just as Quinn pushes her way in the front door. She instantly misses the feel of Rachel's skin against her own, the gentle touch leaving a lingering heat.

"I got your favourite Rach…" Quinn says as she balances a tray of drinks in one hand and keys in the other. Slamming the door closed with her hip she lets her eyes flick between the two girls. "Everything okay?"

"Fine," Santana replies stiffly, not giving Rachel any chance to answer first. She can't bear to hear anything more from the other girl. Edging around Rachel she keeps her head down, eyes glued to the floorboards. "I'll leave you two alone."

She is back in her room before either girl can reply, she doesn't fool herself into thinking Rachel will follow her. She still can't work out what Rachel was trying to say, and she's not sure she wants to. Her mind whirls with all kinds of possible scenarios and not a single one good. She quickly sinks back into her bed berating herself for ever having left its safety, and pulls the duvet up over her head. She knows she can't block the world out forever but, arms wrapping around her pillow and hugging it to her chest, she prays she can block it out just for a little bit.


	3. Chapter 3

Santana isn't sure how long it's been seen she last saw Rachel. After everything that's happened she has been avoiding the other girl with renewed determination. She does anything she can, not to be in the apartment with Rachel; takes any and all shifts available, manages to fill her days off with a plethora of pointless activities she can barely even remember the next day, and spends her evenings drowning her sorrows at whatever bar will let her drunken ass in. She figures that creeping into the apartment in the early hours of the morning might not be doing much for her sleeping pattern, and her boss hasn't exactly ignored her sudden decline in productivity, but it's a hell of a lot better than the alternative. Besides, in the few hours she does manage to get some sleep she inevitably has nightmares from a seemingly endless list; finding Rachel in bed with Quinn, Rachel snuggling up on the couch with her new girlfriend, Rachel and Quinn cooking together, singing together, _being_ together.

Tonight however, is one of the few times that Santana has allowed herself the freedom to spend an evening at home. She tries to ignore the fact that it is only because Rachel is visiting Quinn at Yale. She found a little note pinned to the fridge telling her that Rachel has _gone_ _to see a friend for the weekend _and could only scrunch it into a ball and toss it in the bin, trying to ignore the pain in her chest where her heart used to be. She's never actually seen the two of them together, and from the brief messages Kurt has sent, they aren't actually dating but the thought alone is enough to turn her stomach.

Santana is in the kitchen; just about to open the container of Chow Mein she picked up on her way home, when Rachel comes bundling through the front door. It's kind of a tie as to who is more surprised to see who, but in the end Santana awards herself the title. "What the hell are you doing here?" She says, glaring at the unexpected girl while tossing her untouched food down on the counter that sits in between the kitchen and the living room of the open plan apartment.

"I live here," Rachel replies as she slips off her jacket and hangs it over the back of the couch, her back still to Santana as she adds, "I was starting to think you didn't though."

Santana narrows her eyes, arms folded across her chest she wonders if Rachel would even care if she left or not. "I thought you were with Quinn." She tries not to spit the other girl's name, but can't help the venom that sneaks in.

Rachel frowns and leaning against the back of the couch she turns, watching the other girl carefully. "Why would you think I was with Quinn?"

"Your note." Nodding in the direction of the fridge Santana rolls her eyes.

"I never said I was with Quinn," Rachel says as her hands twist together nervously. "I was actually going to go back to Lima for the weekend to see Blaine. He requested my help for the New Directions up and coming competition."

"Oh." She can't help the tiny spark of optimism at the thought of Rachel not having plans with Quinn, it's a shame she feels equally guilty at the thought.

"And before you say it; no I did not decide to blow him off and stay here instead." Shuffling her way across the small gap between the couch and the breakfast bar Rachel leans against the counter. "Kurt and I simply agreed that it would be counterproductive for both of us to go, and since Kurt _i_s Blaine's boyfriend it made much more sense for him to go."

"You could have let me know," Santana says, her mouth working too quickly for her brain. She hadn't meant to sound so angry but then again, she hadn't expected to have to come face to face with Rachel tonight.

Rachel sighs, her mouth whole body tense she throws her hands into the air. "Why? So, you could have carried on avoiding me?"

"Yeah, well you fucking started it!" Santana shouts, her voice echoing around the apartment as she slams her hands down on the counter.

"What is that supposed to mean?" The meekness behind the words makes it clear that Rachel knows exactly what Santana means. She can't even bring herself to look at the other girl.

Santana knows she should stop, should cut her loses and pretend like none of this ever happened. But she can't. She's angrier than she's ever been, and she's sick of acting like everything is okay. "_You_ are the one that stopped talking to _me_, _you_ are the one that arranged big evenings out with Kurt and Blaine but never once invited me, _you _are the one that- that…" Halting mid-sentence Santana tries to catch her breath, her heart hammering in her chest and eyes glazed with tears she refuses to let fall.

Rachel doesn't look up from the floor, her voice shaking as she says, "I'm the one that what?"

She wants to scream at Rachel, tell her that she is the one that stopped being her friend in favour of using her as a cheap whore, she's the one that came on to her, she's the one that left her in an empty bed time after time. "I can't do this," Santana says almost to herself, her arms hugged to her body. "I can't take it anymore, I see you and…" Rachel's head snaps up at Santana's words, her eyes wide and mouth parted as if to argue. "I see you, and it kills me."

"Santana…"

"The worst part is, you don't even fucking notice." Wiping the wetness from her cheeks Santana lets out a bitter laugh. "I think, I think – I have to move out."

Stepping around the counter Rachel tries to reach out to the other girl. "What? No, no… Santana, you can't…"

"Yes, I can." Dodging from Rachel's outstretched arms Santana stumbles backwards; her legs shaking so hard that they almost buckle under her. "I have to."

"Why?" Rachel's desperate shout makes them both jump.

It's the desperation that finally breaks Santana, the sight of the other girl so seemingly lost and confused only angering her further. She wonders how someone so smart can be so stupid, so blind to things that are right in front of her. "Because I fucking love you Rachel." She doesn't mean to say it, and she definitely doesn't mean to shout it but it's out before she can stop it. In the silence that ensues she lets her shoulders sag, wanting to collapse in on herself and never have to deal with the backlash of her words.

"You… you, what?"

Rachel's whispered words barely carry across the space between them and, even as she feels Rachel step toward her, Santana stays frozen. "Please don't make me say it again." She can't tear her eyes up from the floor, so she only realises how close Rachel is when the girl's feet come to a stop in front of her own.

"You said you loved me."

"Love," Santana sighs dejectedly. "Present tense." Dragging her eyes up from the floor she forces herself to look at Rachel, her lips drawn into a watery smile she blinks heavily. "It's okay, I know you don't, that you'd never…"

"No. This is wrong, this…" Rachel shakes her head, recoiling back from the other girl she says, "No. No. You cannot love me."

"It's not really something I can control." Santana wonders if Rachel has even heard her as the other girl continues to mutter.

"No… no…" Eyes focused on Santana, she rakes a shaking hand through her hair in desperation. "You can't love me because… I mean… I... We slept together." The other girl's normal composure seems to dissolve as she lets the tears fall. "We slept together and I... I fucking left you. I…"

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you, it-it doesn't matter," Santana says, not entirely sure where her earlier anger went. All she knows is she hates seeing the guilty on Rachel's face, the girl she loves seemingly falling to pieces in front of her.

"Of course it matters," Rachel says fiercely. Swallowing hard she takes the smallest of steps forward, one hand stretched out and hovering mid-air as if she's afraid to actually touch Santana. "I-I…I lo-"

In an instant Santana jerks away, her anger choked by tears. "Don't. Don't you dare fucking stand there and tell me you love me." Her heart feels like it's knotting in her chest, and it's all she can do to turn away from Rachel. She wills her legs to carry her to her room but a hand on her arm stops her. Jerking around she freezes as she takes in Rachel's tear stained face.

"I didn't know," Rachel says quietly. Her words are broken and awkward as she tries to explain. "I spent every day telling myself that _you_ would never want _me_."

"Please don't lie to me."

Rachel shakes her head, continuing on despite Santana's interruption. " I thought- I thought after Brittany… maybe there was a chance that you and I might… but then you kept bring back all these girls. And I couldn't stand it. I thought if I stay up, if I waited for you then maybe… Maybe I could look after you, that you'd let me take care of you and you'd see how I felt."

She thinks back to the times Rachel stayed up waiting for her, the way the other girl would always be there regardless of how late at night, or early in the morning, it was. Santana had always assumed it was because Rachel felt a sense of duty, or because she was annoyed at her. It doesn't seem real, that those looks of pity and disappointment Santana had been so sure of, so plagued by, where actually something so different. It's almost too much too take in. Her brain scrambling to make sense of it all she takes a deep breath, barely managing to force the next words from her mouth. "You stopped waiting for me."

"I couldn't see you with other girls any more. That's why I couldn't… that's why I didn't invite you to go out when Kurt came over. I knew you'd spend the whole time talking about _any_ girl that wasn't me. I hated watching you with other girls but I… I accepted that you and I would never happen." Biting her lip Rachel cast Santana a guilty look, her voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "Until it did happen."

"If you wanted to be with me so badly, why did you fucking leave? Do you have any idea how it feels to wake up to an empty bed like that?"

"Do you have any idea how much it hurt to leave?" Rachel snaps back, her hands curling into fists so tightly her knuckles begin to turn white. She can feel the way her nails press against the smooth skin of her palm, but it does nothing to quell the nauseating regret turning her stomach as her mind races with memories of wasted opportunities. "I convinced myself that there was no chance you would ever feel anything for me or that you would ever look at me the way you looked at Brittany." Her anger slowly seeping out of her words, she drops her gaze from Santana, unable to stand seeing the pain written across the other girl's features. "I _never_ would have left if… but I didn't think I could stay, no matter how much I wanted to."

Santana feels like the oxygen has been stolen from her lungs, her head swimming as her brain stutters and fails to process that Rachel is saying. She can only choke out one word, desperate and hopeful. "Wanted?"

Rachel frowns, lost for a moment at the one word question, before her lips quirk into a hesitant smile, unsure whether she is even allowed to feel the spark of hope at Santana's words. "Want. Present tense."

The rush of exhalation that flies through Santana is cut abruptly short. "What about Quinn?" Breaking eye contact with Rachel she prepares herself for the inevitable, even if there is a chance that Rachel might want her, she's unsure of where Quinn fits in all this mess.

"I know that Quinn has feelings for me," Rachel begins carefully, her brain already entangled in the horrible words she hadn't gotten a chance to explain the last time she and Santana had spoken. "I never realised until she told me that night. I guess I'm not really good at being able to tell when people see me as more than a friend."

"Right." Not even able to fake a smile a Rachel's vague attempt at a joke she asks, "And you like her as more than a friend?" It isn't a question so much as a statement, and looking down Santana sighs. "That's why you didn't want her to know about… us."

Finding the courage to reach out and clasp Santana's hand with her own, Rachel threads their fingers together. "No. I didn't want her to know because I knew it would hurt her if she did because she'd see how I feel about you." Easing closer Rachel whispers, "I could never be with her, never love her, like I love you Santana."

She feels breathless as she finds her eyes unable to look away from Rachel's, the intensity of her feelings reflected back in the rich, brown orbs she has found herself trying desperately to avoid. She had been so convinced that Rachel felt nothing towards her, that she had simply blocked everything out; refused to look at Rachel, refused to see her or ever again entertain the fantasy that Rachel would ever want her back. Yet here there were. "Rachel…"

"I love you Santana, I have always been in love with you."


End file.
